


Night of the Ingenue

by Dame_DeFaillenot



Category: Wild Wild West (1965)
Genre: First Time, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-07
Updated: 2007-11-07
Packaged: 2017-10-07 06:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dame_DeFaillenot/pseuds/Dame_DeFaillenot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Artemus Gordon was outgunned and outmaneuvered, and he knew it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night of the Ingenue

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by Marian, who makes everything better.

Artemus Gordon was outgunned and outmaneuvered, and he knew it. He knew it the moment his opponent walked into the room. He knew it even before the first sally. There was no way he could win this battle. In fact, since he'd always figured he'd lose the war in the end, he was only surprised the final battle had taken so long to arrive.

Lucie Franklin was the perfect woman. Her honey-blond hair, melting brown eyes, and elegant figure were only the beginning. She was young, but no innocent child. She was intelligent and educated, even sophisticated, but there was nothing tawdry or overly worldly in her manner. Artie watched her as she circulated through the party, poised and confident, engaging each person in a way that left them smiling -- the grande dames with approval, the old men with fond amusement, the younger ladies with wicked glee, and the young beaus with bittersweet yearning.

Artemus watched, too, as Miss Franklin involved Jim West, his partner, in deep conversation. Artie had watched Jim flirt before, many times. He knew every head-tilt, slight smile, and under-the-lashes glance in Jim's repertoire. There was none of that coyness now.

Artie had to admire the way they looked together. Both slender, both elegant in their evening wear. Two beautiful young people, their faces animated with intelligence and interest. They were standing close together, Miss Franklin tilting her head up, and Jim his down in order to see each other's faces. It was an intimate distance. Not unseemly, but the closeness of their stance warned off others who would intrude into what was obviously a tete-a-tete.

As always when he saw Jim in close conversation with a woman, Artie couldn't help but dream. Briefly, Artie would let himself imagine that it was he standing within the radius of Jim's heat, that it was he looking into the depths of Jim's light eyes, that it was he feeling Jim's breath on his cheek, smelling the clean scent of Jim's sweat, basking in the intensity of Jim's regard. Artie shuddered infinitesimally as his body reacted to his imagination, then he firmly schooled his thoughts back to order. Artemus didn't know why he tortured himself so. He would never have his partner's love, not like that, and yearning for it like the heroine in a bad novel would only keep him from enjoying what they did share.

As he brought himself back to the present, Artemus noticed something new and frightening. The smile on Jim's face as he talked to the girl was one that Artie had never seen before. No, that wasn't true. Artie hadn't seen Jim direct that smile toward a woman, but he had seen that smile directed at himself. It was the broad, easy smile that Jim only showed when he was most relaxed, when he felt comfortable enough to really be himself. It was the private smile Jim used when he and Artie were alone.

Artemus had seen that smile late at night in the parlor of the Wanderer, as the train sped them to their next assignment, when they had nothing to do but read and play poker and enjoy each others' company. It was the smile of recognition and encouragement that Jim flashed secretly Artie's way in the middle of a mission when Artie was deep in disguise. It was the smile Artie saw over whiskey at the end of a hard day, when the injuries had been bandaged and the reports written and the two of them could silently acknowledge the relief and happiness they felt at living to fight another day.

Now Jim was smiling that way at Lucie Franklin. As she accompanied her father to dinner, and Jim watched her walk away, Artemus noted just how long the smile lingered on his partner's handsome face. Despite the warm Washington night and the glittering beauty of the best of governmental society, a chill of foreboding gripped Artie. He glanced away briefly, and when he looked back, his eyes caught Jim's. The smile, which had begun to fade, blossomed again, almost too fast to see. Then Jim's expression schooled to polite blandness as he turned away to find his own dinner partner.

Artemus brought his own expression into line, and sought out the dowager whom he was to escort. Artie knew his duty, and there was no way he would be anything but entertaining at dinner. Acting was, after all, one of Artie's greatest strengths.

*****

After dinner, the women retired and the host brought out the port and cigars. The strict dinner seating was abandoned, and the men mingled and talked around the table. Small groups formed and reformed as the conversation went in every direction, from the price of gold to railroad interests to the local favorites for both horse racing and political office. Artemus found himself discussing recent mining successes and failures in the mountains of Wyoming with a group of western politicians. It was dry work, and when he finally managed to extricate himself, ready to leave the gathering, he looked around for his partner only to find Jim deep in conversation with Congressman Franklin, Lucie's father.

Expecting the usual dull Washington party, Artemus and Jim had made an informal arrangement to go to a music hall performance together after this event. If they wanted to make it in time, they needed to take their leave. Counting on the mental link he'd always had with his partner, Artie tried to catch Jim's eye discreetly. Usually it was no problem to get his partner's attention. This evening, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get Jim to look up at him even long enough for a brief signal.

For over an hour Artemus neatly sidestepped any conversation that promised to last more than five minutes. He kept trying to get Jim's attention. It was obvious that Jim, for whatever reason, felt compelled to stay and talk to Lucie Franklin's father, and Artemus would never second guess his partner's reasons. But Artie couldn't really stay, either. So, with a brief interruption to let Jim know his intentions, Artie left the gathering, alone.

He didn't bother with the music hall. Without Jim, it just didn't appeal.

Later, in the privacy of his hotel room, Artie had time to think about the evening. Calling up the memory of Jim's face as he watched Miss Franklin walk away. Recalling Jim's open, happy smile, remembering the crinkling at the corners of Jim's eyes, Artemus felt something inside himself rip in two.

On the one hand, Artemus was jealous. It was something he'd admit to no-one but himself, but it was true, nonetheless. The other women Artie had seen Jim with, and there had been many, posed no threat. They were diversions, playthings, or means to accomplish the goals of a mission and, Artie knew it.

Lucie Franklin was another matter entirely. Jim didn't choose congressmen's daughters for amusement or dalliance. He usually didn't choose women with fathers nearby at all. No sense in courting a backside full of buckshot when there were so many unencumbered women happy to have Jim's attention. There was no assignment that Artie knew of, and even if there was, it would be political suicide for the head of the Secret Service to order an agent to play with the affections an important man's daughter for the sake of the job.

Then there was Jim's own reactions to the girl. Artemus could tell that Jim honestly liked her. All evidence pointed to the girl liking him right back. She didn't react to Jim like a lovestruck child, or like a sophisticate looking for amusement. She seemed just as open and genuine with Jim as Jim was with her.

Yes, Artie was jealous, because this girl had Jim's high regard in a way no other woman seemed to. The thing of it was, as a woman, Lucie Franklin could have Jim in a way Artemus never could.

This thought reminded Artemus of the nights he lay awake in the dark, and imagined a life where Jim and he could look to a future that spanned their whole lives, where they could plan and build based on trust and intimacy in a way that would make their current solid partnership seem like they'd just met. Artie knew he had it in him to give everything to Jim, and it hurt to know he'd never be allowed to do so.

Even worse were the times when Artie's dreams would take him farther, and he'd see himself and his partner twined around each other, bodies enmeshed in the ancient dance of love, reaching the heights of physical ecstasy that were possible only when two people understood each other completely. After those dreams Artemus would awake aching from the desire of his body and the pain in his heart. After these, he'd have to convince himself all over again how lucky he was to have what he had with Jim, because on those mornings he didn't feel lucky, he only felt tired: tired of fighting the feelings he shouldn't have, tired of wanting, and tired of knowing he could never have what he wanted.

Yes, Lucie Franklin was beautiful, rich, and intelligent. She already had everything, and now she would have Jim. Which led Artie to the other hand.

James West was the sort of man who could go places in life. Artemus' desire to keep his partner near did not blind him to the fact that Jim had always been meant for greater things than the Secret Service. Artie knew that Jim enjoyed the life they led together. There was something very satisfying about bringing the enemies of the country to justice. However, Artie's affection for Jim made him want more for his partner, made him want Jim to rise as high in life as he could.

Artie didn't fool himself. Just as he admitted his jealousy, he also admitted to himself that as long as he and Jim remained partnered, there would be no real advancement for either of them. While Artie knew that he himself had gone pretty much as far as he could in the Service, Jim was capable of so much more. Unfortunately, as long as Jim was encumbered with Artie as a partner, he was missing opportunities. Either Jim wasn't seeing them when they came along, or he wasn't being considered for them because he'd made it plain that he was unwilling to break up the partnership.

Artemus knew Jim liked him and liked working with him. He knew Jim was the model of loyalty and friendship. Jim would never abandon Artemus as long as the partnership was viable. Artemus knew this, and saw it as his responsibility to watch out for Jim in this matter just as he watched Jim's back out in the field. If Jim didn't take the opportunities available on his own initiative, there would come a time when Artie would end the partnership himself in order to free Jim of any perceived obligation.

It occurred to Artie that here was a stellar opportunity for Jim to take a giant step in the direction of his future. Not only was there marriage to a woman who was worthy to be Jim's consort through life, but Jim would be joining an influential family, perhaps the most influential in Colorado, and that could be the springboard to launch Jim into the powerful place he so obviously belonged.

  
Artemus wouldn't stand in Jim's way. No matter how it hurt to step away from the most important person in his life, Artie would do what was best for Jim, would let his own heart be torn to pieces, would let his presence in Jim's life fade to memory. Artie knew that he could keep Jim in his life a little longer, but here and now they were being handed a golden opportunity, so Artie would encourage his partner to move into the future he should have, and bow gracefully out of Jim's life.

*****

Artie got the opportunity to put his vague plans in motion much sooner than he'd expected or wanted. The next day, Jim begged off when Artie tried to reschedule the music hall. His partner had received an invitation to the Franklin's town house for dinner. Artemus could do nothing but smile and accept the situation. He took bitter satisfaction in seeing the corroborating evidence that Jim was being wooed by the life Artie knew he deserved. It hurt that Jim seemed so eager to move away from Artie and toward the future, but Artemus recognized the feeling as the nebulous fantasies of his own foolish heart shredding and floating away like fog in the morning sunlight.

*****

So passed the next several days. During the day, Jim and Artie spent their time as they always did when they reported back to Secret Service headquarters. The information flowed both ways. On their part, there were reviews and debriefings and reports to go over. Sensitive details of recent cases that couldn't be put into writing had to be communicated. Their superiors and fellow agents needed Jim's and Artie's impressions on situations and people they'd encountered -- the non-factual information that might or might not be true, things that were based on their agents' instincts, tidbits of information gleaned from not-necessarily-reliable sources -- the rumors and gray material that a good agent picked up if he kept his ear to the ground, and then was responsible for passing on to others so that everyone knew the lay of the fog-enshrouded land.

In exchange, they got the same nebulous information from other agents to fill in what they already knew. They also got new policies from their superiors and the latest information on known malfeasants and hot spots.

On previous visits to Washington, Jim and Artie would spend their evenings together as well as their days. This time, however, Jim spent his evenings in the company of Miss Franklin. Sometimes he escorted her to cultural events, sometimes he was a dinner guest at the family townhouse. Artie suspected that during his time with the Franklin family Jim was being evaluated as both son-in-law and business associate. Highly placed families tended to have stringent requirements for membership, requirements that James West would meet without even trying.

Left to his own devices, Artie spent his time at the theater. When he was a younger man, before he'd partnered with Jim, curtain was but the beginning of Artie's evening. Visits with his actor friends, apres-theater buffets, cards and dice at the local gentlemen's clubs, and ending the evenings in the arms of a charming demimondaine. When Artemus and Jim had spent their Washington evenings together in the past, they'd done much the same. Perhaps a little less raucously than Artemus alone, but no less satisfying to all a gentleman's desires.

Artemus didn't feel much like socializing without Jim, so after the plays, he would check into the dressing rooms of the few friends currently performing in the capitol's theaters, offering his congratulations and sharing a drink for old times' sake. Then, earlier than customary, he'd return to his hotel room and sit with a whiskey and a cigar, one single lamp turned low, and mull over his life, the choices he had made, and the choices he was going to have to make in order to live with himself.

Jim never stayed out overnight. Lucie Franklin herself was absolutely unapproachable, and James West too much of a gentleman to bed one woman while courting another. So when he got back to the hotel, after the theater or the dinner, or whatever else was on the evening's agenda, Jim would knock quietly on Artie's door, ready to check in with his partner for a nightcap and cigar.

It didn't really surprise Artemus that his partner didn't talk about the romance with Miss Franklin. Artie would ask after her welfare, and Jim would answer briefly that all was well, but there were no details. As befitted gentlemen, Jim didn't volunteer, and Artemus didn't press. There was nothing to be gained in torturing himself with images of their closeness. Jim did talk a little about the silver mining company that Congressman Franklin was involved in, but even that discussion was brief.

Mostly, they talked about what they'd learned during the meetings at the home office, fitting details into the picture they already knew and comparing opinions. By unspoken agreement, the partners ended their evening after about an hour. Jim wished Artie a good night, and retired to his own room down the hall, and the next day, they did it all again.

It was the very lack of specifics that made Artemus think Jim was finally serious about a woman. Jim's reticence meant none of the teasing that had always been fair game with past dalliances. In addition, the mention of the congressman's business dealings strongly implied that Lucie's father was courting Jim as much as Jim was courting Lucie. Artie had to face it. It was only a matter of time before his partner moved on to greater things. Each night, as he lay in bed waiting for sleep, Artie went over the day, doing his best to remember each minute with his partner, storing up memories for the empty years ahead.

*****

A week after Jim and Miss Franklin started keeping company, Artemus found himself attending the same performance as they. He spotted them from the balcony as they were seated moments before the orchestra started the overture.

Artie couldn't tear his eyes away. The camaraderie between his partner and the young woman was plain to see. Neither was playing at flirtation. There were no coy glances or sly gestures. However, the smiles and attention they gave each other spoke of such easy intimacy and warm regard that Artemus, confident in his ability to judge the motives of others, was convinced he was seeing the truth. There were no witnesses here, no-one to impress. The rapport between Jim and Miss Franklin was genuine, and it was time for Artemus to concede the field and make it easy for Jim to enter the life for which he was so obviously destined.

Faced with his own decision to end the partnership so soon, Artie stopped thinking. The pain was too overwhelming to be faced in a public place. Forever after, Artemus couldn't say what that night's performance had been about. He didn't even remember if it was a drama or a comedy. Artie left the theater during intermission, needing solitude, and unwilling to meet his partner in his distracted condition.

Artemus had no memory of returning to the hotel. Only that this was the night he stopped welcoming Jim for a nightcap. Instead, Artie sat in the darkened room, the street lamp outside his window giving just enough light to pour his drink without spilling. Artie didn't smoke, either. Nothing to reveal that he was in his room and awake. Seeing Jim so involved with Lucie Franklin, so intimately wrapped up in conversation, was too bittersweet for Artie to bear.

In Artie's eyes it was now set. They looked serious. Surely Jim would reveal his intentions to Artie soon, and Artie wasn't ready to have things confirmed yet. Not until he could hide his reaction even from Jim. The hurt was still too fresh. Give him a couple of days' solitude and then he'd be able to show pleasure at Jim's news, the happiness a true friend would show when he heard about his friend falling far enough in love to propose. By the time he heard the news from Jim, Artie needed to have the pain buried and be ready to be glad for Jim, for Jim's happiness, and for Jim's future.

*****

In due course, the Wanderer's maintenance done, Jim and Artie were sent back into the field. They had a long way to go, halfway across the continent to New Mexico territory, and the trip would take them days.

Hurtling into the darkness, setting off for a mission fraught with danger and adventure, felt so familiar. Artemus had to force himself to notice each detail, sure that this would be the last time he'd have Jim's company like this.

All the same, as they settled in to the parlor for their usual after-dinner conversation, Artemus was restless and unable to concentrate. He kept getting up, sitting down, pacing around the gently rocking room, moving knick-knacks, racking up the billiard balls and breaking the triangle, only to rack them again. He picked up the whiskey decanter several times, but never poured himself a drink. He adjusted the aim of the tiny cannon on the desk. He peered through the curtains at the dark landscape rushing by. If asked, Artemus would have not been able to say which he were dreading more: the opening salvo of the conversation that would end their partnership, or the ratcheting tension he felt the longer the discussion was delayed.

Throughout all this, Jim watched Artie. At first, Jim was amused, then he got irritated. Finally he said, “Will you settle down, please, Artie. I don't know what's bothering you, but you're starting to make me twitchy.”

Artemus, distracted and out of sorts from his thoughts of _last time_. shocked himself by blurting, “I'm just wondering what will happen to the train when you're gone.”

“What?!” Jim swung around in his seat to look straight at his partner.

Appalled at his own lack of control, Artemus tried to bluff his way out with a jovial brush off. “Nothing, my boy. Pay no attention.”

“Uh-uh, Artie.” Jim was having none of it. “Where do you think I'm going, and why do you think that?”

“I was only thinking that our good Uncle lent the train to you, and once you're retired, he'll probably want to let someone else use it. If it goes back to transporting important visitors, I'll have to remove our improvements.”

“What makes you think I'm retiring?”

Artie found himself suddenly very impatient with his partner's dissembling. “C'mon, Jim, I'm not blind. I saw that was going on with Congressman Franklin in Washington.”

“So?” Jim seemed intent on meeting Artie's irritation with his own.

“So, you're probably looking forward to starting your new life among the good people of Denver.”

“I like my life just fine as it is, Artie. What on earth makes you think I want to retire and move to Denver?”

“Now, James, you did spend practically every night with Miss Franklin and her family. Even the little I heard of your discussions with the congressman made it plain that he wants you to join him in business.”

“Oh, that,” dismissed Jim. “That was all made up. He came to the Secret Service with suspicions that some business associates were trying to defraud the government over some silver mining claims. I went in as Lucie's intended to learn more. Turned out he was right. So I gave the information to the Richmond, and he's taking it from there.”

Artie frowned. An assignment? Alone? They were partners. This was unacceptable! “Why didn't you tell me what was going on? I'm your partner. I'm supposed to be watching your back!”

“Artie, there was never any danger.” Jim was the voice of reason. “I knew if I told you, you'd insist on hanging around to back me up, and I wanted you to spend your time in Washington enjoying yourself. I know you love the city. Here was the chance for you to get out among your old friends. You've had me dogging your footsteps for years, and you deserved a little time to yourself.”

“You could still have let me know. I would have wanted to know!” Artie winced inwardly as he heard the almost-whine in his voice.

“C'mon, Artie, it wouldn't have made sense for you to be around. I was there as a potential son-in-law. A man doesn't take his partner with him when he's courting. Having you there would have made the other men suspicious.”

“So you were just pretending to court Lucie Franklin as an excuse to be near her father. I'm sure he loved that part of the plan.” Artemus was appalled at his own nastiness, but he'd finally managed to convince his too-faithful heart to let Jim go, and now the possibility that he forced himself through that agony in vain was making him feel both stupid and angry. “And seeing you with the young lady herself... Well, she obviously holds you in very high regard.”

“As I do her.” Jim's even response was infuriating. “She's a remarkable woman. She was in on it from the start. Whoever marries that girl is going to be one lucky man.”

“Why don't _you_ propose, Jim. I could tell she liked you. I could tell you liked her. I could tell you liked her a lot!” Artemus must be going mad. It was the only explanation for the things that were coming out of his mouth.

“Of course I liked her. I like beautiful women, Artie. I don't propose to them, though.” Jim voice was still calm, but he was staring at his partner, watching him closely, frowning slightly as if working on a puzzle.

“I don't understand why not. You're going to get married some day. This seems like the perfect opportunity. She's got money, beauty, brains, and courage. You'll have to look a long time to find another woman like Lucie Franklin.” Artie couldn't believe he was pushing Jim to leave. During their time in Washington he'd not only convinced himself it was going to happen, he'd convinced himself that it _ought_ to happen -- now, before Jim wasted any more of his life as a low-level Secret Service agent.

Something must have clicked for Jim as he listened to Artemus argue for the end of their partnership, because his expression changed, and he moved. Without warning, Artemus found himself pressed against the parlor wall. Jim's body was hot against Artie's, thigh to shoulder. The slight, almost nonexistent rocking of Jim's hips pressed his obvious arousal against Artie's groin, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through Artemus' body.

Artemus froze. Was he imagining this? This was so close to the dreams he'd had that for a moment he thought he'd missed the end of the evening, and now he was in bed asleep. What was Jim doing? Why was Jim doing this? The heat of Jim's body and the cold of Artie's shock chased each other up and down over the entire surface of Artie's skin. Artemus could barely breathe, and a distant part of his mind was grateful that Jim was pressing him to the wall. He'd never be able to stand on his own in this condition.

So great was Artie's surprise that he almost missed the words when Jim pressed his cheek to Artie's and breathed into his ear, "You didn't really think I'd choose her over you, did you?" He punctuated his question with a particularly emphatic thrust.

Artie forced himself to focus. It wasn't just the compression of his chest that caused his reply to come out in a breathless near-moan. "Jim... James... She has everything a man could want. Everything you could want. What can a battered old man like me possibly give you to compare?"

Artie knew he should push Jim away. His partner's shocking, delicious nearness was making it impossible to think, to gather his arguments, to lay out logically all the reasons he had to convince Jim that he'd be better off in a life so different than the one they led now. The heat of Jim's body, the strength of him, the scent of whiskey and tobacco, leather and hair tonic, the unmistakable evidence of Jim's interest – My God! Jim wanted _him_! -- these all combined to rob Artemus of coherent thought. He wanted to let himself be overwhelmed by Jim's presence, to surrender to his beloved partner's warmth. Especially since if he was successful, this would be the first, last, and only time he'd have this, and the memory would need to serve him the rest of his days.

But to be successful, he needed to marshall his thoughts. So Artemus gripped Jim's biceps and resolutely pushed his partner away, stepping into the middle of the parlor to avoid being trapped again.

When Jim stepped toward him, Artemus held out a hand to ward him off. "No, James. Don't. Let me say this."

Jim's smile as he lowered himself to the settee was indulgent, affectionate even. "All right, Artie. You say what you have to say." Unspoken, Artemus also heard, 'But it won't do any good. My mind is made up.'

Artemus did his best. He outlined all the arguments he'd come up with in the dark Washington hotel room. He described in glowing detail the life Jim could lead, should lead. The life of power and privilege that awaited his partner if he would just reach out and take the opportunities available.

Through it all, Jim sat and watched Artie. He sipped occasionally at his whiskey, and smiled a gentle, bemused smile as his partner gave one of the most heartfelt performances of his life.

By the time Artie wound down, it felt as if he'd talked for hours, painting word pictures of domestic bliss and worldly success. The clock on the mantle and the level of liquid in Jim's glass told him that it had really only been 20 minutes. When he finished, he looked at Jim, waiting, hoping that he'd gotten through.

"You've said your piece, Artie, now I'll say mine." Jim slowly, deliberately placed his whiskey glass onto the table, and stood. He walked toward Artemus, all coiled potential and sleek movement in his black dinner suit. Artie didn't even realize that he'd retreated until Jim had him plastered, chest-to-chest, against the parlor wall again. This time, along with using the pressure of his body immobilize his partner, Jim grasped Artie's right wrist and held it against the wall while using his own right hand to gently cup Artie's cheek and force him to look into Jim's eyes.

"Artemus, for seven years you've been my partner. For seven years, you've watched my back, rescued me from certain death, come after me when I was lost, bandaged my injuries, fed me, amused me, and cared for me. Do you think I didn't notice? Do you think I didn't understand what it meant? What possible use do I have for a little girl who's never faced anything more dangerous than a society party?"

"Jim, your future. Marriage. Children..."

"Mean nothing to me if you are not in my life." Jim stroked his thumb over Artie's lower lip, then caressed his face from hairline to chin.

Artemus swallowed, the gentle intimacy of the touch causing something deep in his chest to clench. It took all his discipline to continue meeting Jim's probing gaze, knowing that his own heart, everything Artie had been hiding for years, was exposed.

Jim must have seen it for what it was, because his expression softened as he moved impossibly closer. First his breath, and then, so softly it could have been Artie's imagination, Jim's lips touched Artie's cheek. Another brushing kiss on his chin. Then on his other cheek. Then Jim gently tugged at Artie's head, bending it down so he could feather a kiss over Artie's brow.

Jim pulled back just enough to look his partner full in the face and said, "It's you, Artemus Gordon. I want you. And if I have to spend both our lives convincing you, that's exactly what I'll do."

Artie moistened his suddenly dry lips and watched Jim move back in. Then, without thought, he found himself parting his lips and welcoming his partner, participating enthusiastically in the intense kiss that followed. His last thought before surrendering completely was that the rest of their lives might just be long enough.

 

 


End file.
